


Peace is Overrated

by SuitablySarcastic



Category: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth is non-binary in this fic, Spolier-y, Trigger warnings for depression and low-key suicidal thoughts, also murder, bit of a vent fic, don't read if you haven't played it yet or it won't make sense, post crimson flower route, thats mentioned to but non explicit and in memory, they/them pronouns, this is kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuitablySarcastic/pseuds/SuitablySarcastic
Summary: (Just some feelings I had from the Crimson Flower route. Am I the only one who thinks it's the saddest one? Yes? Alright. This is just a Drabble so any criticism/feedback is appreciated!)
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Byleth, sorta
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Peace is Overrated

Every year, on the day the war ended, Byleth visited Gronder field.

While the townsfolk in Enbarr were setting up decorations, drinking, and toasting to peace, Byleth would discreetly pay a traveling merchant a handsome some to bring them to (former) Kingdom Territory...along with a castle guard of course (While they had felt it to be an unnecessary precaution, Hubert's instance had worn them down). Every year Byleth would kneel at the wooden cross they had staked into the ground five years before, re-paint it’s peeling lacquer and then leave. The ritual had stayed the same for the last five years, choice of escort included: a broad shouldered stoic man with blonde hair just starting to gray around the edges. He spoke very little during the journey, never really interrupting their ritual save for the moment when he would bend down, put his hand on his heart, and place a flower at the cross.

Byleth could never be quite sure whether he was bowing or praying.

However, this year was different. The entire field had erupted with wildflowers, the once barren earth now covered by tiny splotches of whites, pinks and yellows. The flowers seemed to have sprung up all over. Even the normally silent soldier let out a small whistle, taking off his helmet as not to obscure the view. 

It felt almost…peaceful.

Impulsively, they leaned back, falling into a bed of violets and ignoring the soldier's startled shout. For the first time in a while, Byleth just closed their eyes and breathed, pretending that their body could act as fertilizer to feed this impossible wonder.

\---------------------------

“Edelrgard, what am I?”

“That is a strange question. You're the empire’s ambassador. I don’t think I could handle all of the dignitary work without you, and I know Hubert always appreciates the assistance, even if he rarely says so-“

“That’s not what I meant.”

Byleth turned around to open the window, the air a big too muggy for their liking. A wave of fresh air hit their face as they waited for her response. If they glanced to their left, Byleth could see Edelrgard through the vanity mirror that functioned as decoration more than anything else. Her face held was mild apart from the slight twist of her lips that always occurred when the Empress was faced with something she didn't quit understand. It wasn’t surprising that she was taking her time, Byleth didn’t usually ask such abstract questions, it was in their nature to be direct. 

“...teacher.”

Byleth turned around to face their friend, trying to parse exactly what she had said while they were still lost in their own thoughts.

“Sorry?”

Edelrgard stared at them for a bit, lips twisting further. Eventually she sighed and turned back to her desk, evidently gleaning nothing from Byleth's stony expression. 

“I said you are my teacher. All of ours really. It was from you that we learned the skills that we needed to survive, and it is thanks to you that we stand here together today.”

Byleth turned back to the window, thinking on that.

\---------------------------

“Hey…are you okay?”

Lifting their head from the seemingly endless mounds of paperwork, Byleth turned to face Bernadetta in surprise. Not really knowing how to react to such a question, they just stared at her instead. Judging from the rising blush creeping up the girl’s cheeks though, they’ve probably been staring too long.

“Don’t do that! You know it freaks me out, jeez.”

It was an old and tired phrase with no real heat behind it. The familiarity almost made them smile. They both soon fell quiet once more, though Bernadetta kept on figeting and glancing back at them. There was a certain vulnerability in her expression that made her look several years younger.

(Gods, they were all so _young_ )

“Look, if- if you're not…it’s okay! I mean it's not okay okay, obviously, just that, you can talk to me! Or if not me, then someone else, but you can talk to us about anything and we’ll listen! No matter what, we’re here for you…okay?”

And there was such hope in her eyes, in little Bernadetta who was scared of the entire world, such love and earnestness that Byleth had to choke back a sob. Doubling over, they felt an embrace encompassing their waist, wiry archer arms holding them together as their body shook in effort to keep from screaming. Bernadetta held them for a long time, humming softly until their shaking subsided. 

"Please talk to us.”

But Byleth couldn't make a sound.

They could never tell the others about how many people they had killed without a thought before they had met their students. Couldn't talk how their hands would start to shake if they went to long without swinging a blade. Couldn't talk about how they were only ever truly happy at the monastery. How it was the only home they had, and they destroyed it anyway.

\---------------------------

Byleth had dreams about it sometimes.

They would stand at a distance, watching the scene replay before their eyes, the putrid smell of her green blood wafting through the air as the Immaculate One was brought low. Then a sound would begin to rise across the courtyard, deafeningly loud. Byleth would cover their ears, trying to block out the noise, desperate to stop the incessant BUH-BA-BUMP pounding away at their skull.

Then they'd spot it, their own heart disembodied heart pumping out enough blood to paint the courtyard red. In their bloody reflection, Byleth would watch, as their skin began peeling away like paper, reveling nothing, but empty space.

They always woke up screaming.

They confessed the truth of their nightmares to Edelgard with their bodies were pressed together, legs tangled and hair messy. The two always spoke softer under the gentle candlelight (neither of them liked to sleep in the dark). Edelgard had looked up at them then, pressing her hand firmly to the place where their now beating heart rested, for her comfort or for their own they weren't sure. Her eyes were a mix of pity, sadness, and as always when Rhea was mentioned, a little bit of anger.

“It’s liked she locked your humanity away.” She had said. Byleth disagreed but didn't say so, choosing to bury their face in the crook of her neck. If anything, they thought it was Sothis who made them human. 


End file.
